


Last Request

by Aileuromania



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Sex, M/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:10:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1538879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aileuromania/pseuds/Aileuromania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While standing watch, a draenei vindicator finds his compassion tested in the face of the to-be-executed orc's last request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Request

**Author's Note:**

> This piece features two men in a sexual situation.  
> This was the first piece of gay smut I'd ever written, and thought it needed to be added to this archive. Hopefully it's not too bad.  
> It deliberately doesn't have named characters.

The first thing that struck him as he walked into the guard room was the sheer size of the creature he had been assigned to guard. Even the thick iron bars of the cage he was kept in didn't diminish the fact this green skinned man was big, a bigness made of muscle and smooth skin. If it wasn't for his dark green pigmentation and that brutish face, he might have stopped for a second look. Even as it was, it was hard not to stare.

“Well hello there.” The human he was taking over the shift from stretched languidly as he got up out of his chair, looking the tall draenei up and down. “It's about time you got here.”

“I have arrived early for my shift.” His remonstration was an immediate reply to the unshaven man's sullen mutter, the human's attitude one of disdain and disrespect. He didn't understand such things – under the Naaru's teachings, respect for all things, particularly allies, was paramount. This human's sloppiness and general tone had already set him on the wrong hoof in their prior meetings, and this didn't seem to be changing that general impression. “I cannot see any reason for complaint.”

“You were supposed to get here ten minutes early for handover.” the scruffy guard instructed, scratching at his armpit with a yawn. “I'll be making a note of it on your record. Where were you anyway, off fucking your boyfriend?”

He felt his cheeks pinch at this, the compulsion to retort angrily being held in check by his Vindicator training. Instead, he kept his voice mild, only his eyes flashing as he replied,

“I am currently without a partner, either of the temporary or permanent kind, so the answer is no. I was reporting to our superiors regarding the execution tomorrow.”

There were times he wished he had not been so honest with these new found allies, however on his arrival here he had not been able to fathom the capacity for deceit and verbal torture these creatures were able to derive from the most simple of facts. He preferred the sexual company of males – why was this such a topic of derision amongst so many?

He couldn't help but glance at the caged specimen he was to guard, noting the unchanged expression, the somewhat dull look in the bestial red eyes. He didn't quite know why this conversation embarrassed him, but the fact that it was witnessed by another made the feeling even worse.

Of course the human noticed the look, and smirked.

“If you're worried about the booger over here listening in, don't worry.” He turned now to the watching orc, his voice becoming even more disdainful. “You don't understand a thing, do you, you imbecile?” He scooped up a wad of rushes from the straw and tossed them at the huge man, who didn't bat an eyelid as the rancid flooring rained down upon him. Finally, a large slow hand reached up and quietly brushed the chaff from his brow, then resumed his disinterested stare. “See what I mean?” the guard laughed, making a face at the prisoner.

“Leave him alone. Why make his last moments worse than they have to be? He will be facing his judgment for his crimes soon enough, just leave him.” the draenei said firmly, crossing his arms as he glared down at the little man.

“Huh. You would defend the bastard. He came through that Sun Gate with the blood elves near the Exodar, doesn't that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does. I lost many friends and family to both the orcs and the blood elves.” He could still hear the screams when he closed his eyes. “But that doesn't mean we should lower ourselves to their standards. How we treat those at our mercy defines who we are as a people.”

“Riiiight.” The guard sneered now, rolling his eyes heavenwards. “Well, this one's honour guard will arrive at sun up, so keep him alive 'til then, right?” A sour laugh as he stepped towards the door. “Maybe you can even give him his dignity back before then, eh?” He scooped up another handful of rushes and tossed them at the orc, laughing disdainfully as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Again, that quiet hand was brushing the chaff from the orc's skin, and the draenei shook his head sadly as he watched.

“I know you cannot understand me,” he said softly, hoping his sincerity at least would be communicated to the creature. “But I'm sorry for the way we have treated you. No one deserves that kind of humiliation.”

The orc had resumed his dull stare, and the draenei sighed, shaking his head, taking his seat behind the small table and began his long night's vigil over the condemned.

* * * * *

The silence of the night had descended upon the tower block, most of the troops having headed to bed some hours before. The draenei sat at his table, reading by candlelight as he maintained his guard. The orc too maintained a vigil, seemingly meditating or in some kind of trance, seated upon the filthy straw that comprised his bedding.

The file associated with him had been curious reading. The orc had arrived with the blood elves pouring through the Sun Gate and was the only one of his kind who had arrived in this fashion. As a mark of the respect the draenei showed for their newfound allies, this one had been turned over to the humans for judgement, given that a member of the Horde was Alliance jurisdiction, and not solely of the vengeful space travelers.

He had been transferred here to Stormwind, accompanied by the draenei's detachment of guards who had assumed the duty of helping to secure him until such time as his execution date arrived. That date was on the morrow. There would be no pardon, no stay of execution. He would be paraded before the populace and slain as the criminal he was. Then, the draenei would return to the Exodar and resume their primary duty as guardians of their makeshift city.

It was a shame things had come to such a pass between the races, but the guard remembered the savagery of the orc warriors, the brutality of them as they ravaged the draenei settlements, and knew that this simply had to be. Blood called for the blood of the guilty. It did not, however, call for their belittlement. In a way, he was glad he was the one who had been assigned this final duty. At least his prisoner would be guaranteed one night of peace.

It was still some hours before dawn when he heard it, the gentle tapping against the bars. With a curious frown he looked up, and found the orc was now standing, looking at him with interest as he peered through the dim light.

“What is it?” he asked, though he knew the creature would not be able to understand him.

The orc was a large male and as he stood now, illuminated by candles, his features were not so brutal, his muscles shaded and defined by the feeble light. His head was raised, his expression almost noble, and his red eyes regarded the draenei with interest.

Slowly, with a certain grace, the orc pointed at him.

“Yes?”

The gaze of the green skinned man flickered down for a moment, then up again to regard the Vindicator's face. Again, the orc pointed at him, reemphasising the gesture.

“I don't understand.” the draenei replied, half getting to his feet as he regarded the orc.

With a sigh of frustration, the orc pondered a moment, tilting his head to one side, then slowly drew his hand down to point at his own crotch.

Even against the bars, through his thin clothing the signs of arousal were quite easy to see.

Every muscle within the draenei became motionless, freezing him in place while his mind began to whirl. Yes, despite the green skin and that brutish face – those tusks! - this was the body type he preferred, muscular and lean, almost overpowering in its bulk. But if it were a trap, a ploy to escape on this final night of his life, it was a flimsy one, for he would perform his duty.

“No.” he said, aware his voice was rasping in his own awakening desire, resenting the metal codpiece which made up a part of his uniform as he sat back into his place once more.

Another sigh of frustration, and the orc pointed at him once more, the look on his grotesque face beseeching. The draenei closed his eyes to the creature as those large hands dropped to his waistband. He didn't want to see what the orc was about to reveal.

“Cease that, or I will call the night watch.” he said, his voice firm. But the soft sighing caused him to look again, and sure enough the orc had removed not only his pants, but his shirt as well, leaving him naked and erect. Those large hands gently caressed his hardening shaft, taking it in slow strokes, though the look on his face was not of pleasure, but of pleading as he regarded his captor.

“Oh by the Light...” the draenei murmured, shifting his hips in the hope of giving himself ease from his own awakening, his burgeoning member beginning to press heavily against his plate armour. He couldn't look away though, for even when he did, those soft sounds from the cell thrilled through him.

He was about to stand and call for the night patrol when the orc paused. Eyes wide with need, the creature turned now, presenting his perfectly toned backside towards the bars, leaning his chest and face submissively against his discarded clothes. Even from this distance, the draenei could see he was perfectly rounded, his cheeks firm and supple, perfect for his own large hands to grasp as he sought entry...

With a moan he was on his feet, his armour being shed as he stepped across the small room, the cool air a shock to his heated shaft as it emerged from its wrappings. He was already so hard for this beast, this submissively presenting creature, that even to move this small distance was a blissful pain.

“If this is a ploy,” he warned as he unlocked the door to the cell, stepping through cautiously. “I warn you, even unarmed and without armour I am a fine fighter. And even if you managed to best me, there are more locks than this you must breach to get free. I don't hold all the keys.”

His only reply was a groan, the presenting hips shifting back and forth as their owner waited in growing anticipation.

The door shut and locked behind him, the draenei sized up the orc, now so tantilisingly within arm's reach. He was still waiting, arms held along his sides as he passively waited, his savage features twisted with need, crouching with his head pressed against the dirty floor. He couldn't have presented a less threatening but more provocative figure had he tried.

Hesitantly the draenei trailed soft fingertips over those powerful buttocks, gazing with longing down those thick thighs. The orc writhed beneath his touch, and before he knew it the guard was on his knees, rising up behind his prisoner, spitting into his hands and moistening his own shaft.

He could see he had been used before, the telltale lines of stretching notable about his sphincter. And it had not all been pleasurable, if one could read the story the small scars and nicks across that perfect body told. The welts of a scourge had not yet properly healed across that broad back, but the fine lines of old scarring spoke of far worse whippings than any he had received this time at the Alliance's hands.

His caress was gentle as he traced the lines of the orc's behind, and he spat – not in disgust, but to soothe the entry he would soon make. Normally he would have been prepared, with fish oil or grease, but this was spontaneous, and so he would make do with what he had.

Before him, the orc moaned again, his back arching as he awaited penetration, his legs parting slightly to allow the draenei access.

Gentle fingertips about his rim eased out the makeshift lubricant, and with a shudder, the Vindicator pushed his glistening tip to the orc's waiting entryway. They both shuddered as he made his careful insertion, the heat beyond an enticement he had never felt before. The orc writhed in pleasure, pushing against the invasion of himself, welcoming the draenei's thick shaft inside him.

He was tight around him, the guard realised with mounting desire, the sensations rising from his groin threatening to consume him. But he couldn't yet ride him as he wished – it was always best to know the limitations of a partner before taking advantage. So he moved slowly, feeling the orc's muscles ripple about him as he pushed his way in.

Great hands gripped the green hips, guiding himself away as he found himself at the end of his length. Slowly he withdrew, and again pushed himself in, the delicious friction across his tip and down his member urging him to go faster, to take what he needed from this union. But he couldn't in good conscience do that without reciprocation, even though the orc was pushing against him in an equally needy manner.

It was partially habit, partially his need and sense of fair play that caused his tail to go questing between his own legs, through the orc's and to wrap about the quivering shaft of his prisoner. The orc's cry of surprise quickly modulated into a sigh of pleasure as the draenei inside him began to thrust as they so needed, the tail around the orc's manhood caressing and tightening on each pullback, releasing a little on each thrust, the being beneath him moaning and pushing against the draenei as their rhythm was found.

Hips moving in concert they began to pump in earnest, combined need prompting the two to greater speed and strength. They were two powerful men on a battlefield of lust, and the battlecries were loud as they indulged in the parry and thrust, the orc and draenei growling together as the animal awoke in both. His tail squeezed ever tighter as control was slowly lost, lust taking over from discipline, the orc urging the draenei ever on as he lost himself in frenzy. The prisoner's great fists clenched as he neared his climax, his solid penis throbbing and twitching from the restriction around it and the strokes along it. He raised his head as he came, eyes screwing shut as he shouted incoherently, jets of white spurting along the draenei's tail and his own abdomen.

Growling as he felt his partner's release, the guard gripped those magnificent hips and thrust harder, pushing into those heated depths over and over again, feeling his own lubrication easing the way in that soft tunnel now. He was in power, he was in control and he had given pleasure. He would now take what was his.

Skin slapped against skin as he drove ever on, his teeth grinding as he neared his own climax. He began to throb as he pushed over the edge, filling the orc completely as he cried out, head raising to the ceiling, spurting his seed deep into his partner as he shuddered then moaned.

Wordlessly they parted, though the power of their union still resounded in their flesh. Wordlessly the guard fetched the bathing bucket and sluiced the pair down, his shaking hands oddly gentle as he washed his partner. It was not until both were washed and dressed once more, the bars once again between them, that anyone spoke.

“Thank you.” The words were said with a definite accent, but with a well roundedness which denoted education – and they came from the orc. “It was good to finally be with a man again, as opposed to the mincing blood elves I was enslaved by for so long.”

“So you can speak Common.” The draenei nodded faintly.

“Yes. My masters taught me many things.” A green fist was slapped over the orc's heart, and he nodded in respect. “Thank you for granting my last request, draenei. I know it was hard for you to do it, but it was appreciated. Perhaps more than you know. My pleasure wasn't often considered where I came from. You were most kind.”

“You are welcome.” His voice was soft. “I'm sorry it has to be this way.”

The orc grinned, tusks glinting in the dim light.

“With what I've done, how could it be any other? I made my choices, and I will die with them. I'm at peace with that.”

When the sun rose and the death guard arrived, they were ready and composed, having talked the night away. They were not friends or lovers; there was too much difference between them. But there was a respect, and so the draenei whispered a prayer to the Light as the executioner's axe fell.

He remembered their parting words, and though in later years he heard many other orcs saying them, they had greater meaning only when he thought of this man.

“Fight well, friend.”


End file.
